Tuesday, June 28, 2016

On the
historic day of 24 June 2016, when it became known that the British people had
voted for Britain's exit from the European Union, I took the ferryboat from the French-occupied Flemish
town of Kales (Calais) to Dover. In years past I had always taken the Eurostar
superfast train, which emerges from underground near Folkestone, but this time
I could see the white cliffs of Dover, ever since Julius Caesar the emblematic
first sign of Britain. As most of you know, they are the reason why Britain is
also known as Albion, from Latin albus, “white”.

I was going
to the Conference on Cultural Astronomy in Bath on 25-26 June 2016, organized
by the Sophia Centre belonging to the University of Wales in Lampeter. It is pleasant to think that the choice of this town was, in cosmic terms, not a coincidence. It is here that William Herschel lived when he made the first-ever discovery of a new planet, Uranus.

This
year the topic was “Worship of the Stars”, a subject that overlaps with the
subject of the European-level Conference on Cultural Astronomy hosted by its
British section in this same town in September. At that conference, I will
present a paper myself (on the Semitic concept of Shirk, “associating (a dying hero with a star)”, which Islam later transformed
into meaning “idolatry”). Here I only attended other people’s lectures. But
this gave me ample time to listen and think, so I shall briefly report on the
lectures before giving my own thoughts.

And by the
way, I earned many a smirk by introducing myself as being “from Brussels” (actually at a small distance from it, not worthy of mention on an international scale), that
hell-hole and focal point of EU tyranny. So, that much for the Sitz im Leben behind this reflection.

The worldwide religion

The
worldwide array of instances of star worship presented here shows that star
worship is really the universal religion. In this regard it competes with
ancestor worship, also near-universal. Or rather, the two are often intertwined,
for deceased ancestors are deemed to be in heaven, often actually associated
with a specific star. The identification of stars with gods is not only
implicit in a common etymology of words for “god” (Deva = “the radiant one”),
it is even affirmed by serious philosophers like Socrates (Apology 226d) and Plato (Laws,
821c or 886d). This view often had to deal with a skeptical counterpoint,
exemplified by the position of philosopher Anaxagoras and of playwright
Aristophanes (“The Clouds” and “The Birds”) that the sun and the stars are only
pieces of burning stone. From a religious viewpoint, this expulsion of the
sacred was disrepect to the gods, or what the Greeks called Hubris, “foolish
pride”, “conceit”, as explained by Stavroula Konstantopoloulou.

Several
speakers went deeper into the alreay well-established role of the Mesopotamian
traditions in this regard. A lesser-known instance, here discussed by Hannelore
Goos, is the role of the stars in Germanic religion. We heard details about the
roles of sun and moon in the Edda, sometimes in disguise. The Germanic pantheon
is often reputed to be sombre and full of ice, but here we saw that it, too,
often symbolically refers to more luminous lore about the bright ones in the
heavens.

In Germany
today, we notice a revival of Solstice gatherings at ancient woodhenge sites
(several have only recently been discovered) or rock formations. Reinhard
Mussik reported that these were less an expression of neo-Paganism than of a
heightened interest in archaeo-astronomy. In particular, he found a widespread
belief in a transnational solar cult that must anciently have been spread
across Europe.

I apologize
to those speakers whose name or research I don’t mention in this limited space,
and move on to Marcello De Martino’s important thesis on Hestia/Vesta, goddess
of the hearth, i.e. the focal (from focus, “hearth”) or central fire. The
Pythagorean philosopher Philolaus of Croton conceived of a model of the
universe wherein the earth is central vis-à-vis the planets and then the fixed
stars, much like in the usual geocentric model, except that the earth itself
revolves around something even more central, the focal fire. This pyrocentric
model is but the high-brow formulation of a tradition that goes back to at
least Proto-Indo-European times (some 4000 BCE). In this system, the gods are
personifications of celestial bodies and phenomena, conceived as peripheral to
the real centre of the universe, Hestia as the hearth fire.

I add that
in this respect, some Paganisms were ready from the beginning for the concept
of “discarding the gods”, which Christianity or Islam would later impose by
force (though only to replace them with their own god). But before that, we
already see how Stoicism, which takes some distance from state-approved theism,
becomes the accepted worldview among educated Greeks and Romans. Or how the
Vedic cult of the gods gets replaced with a pursuit of knowledge, of the
Absolute (Brahman), in the Upanishads. These developments only explicitated a
relativisation of the gods that had been there all along, because the heavenly
beings had always been conceived as peripheral and subordinate to the central
fire.

I may also
add that in Christian cosmology, this central fire reappears as the centrality
of hell within the planet standing in the centre of the geocentric universe.
Theologians had a conscience problem here, for situating hell-fire underground
amounted to putting Satan in the centre of the universe. You have to pay Satan
his due, but this was just too much honour.

The Biblical religions

The Tenach
(Old Testament) recognizes the importance of star worship, even when
prohibiting it for the Israelites: “Pay attention lest ye lift your eyes up to
the sky for seeing sun, moon and stars, that you be led astray and adore and
serve them, those whom the Lord your God hath assigned to all the nations under heaven." (Deut.
4:19) As an application of this instruction among the Jews themselves, we
learned here from speaker Meira Epstein that the Talmud describes rituals for
the first appearance of t, with Helios in his chariot at the centre,he New
Moon, but that after verifying the moon’s visibility, the officiant is then
directed to look at his prayer text and never at the moon itself during the
ritual, so as it make clear that this is not moon worship. Nonetheless, as
excavated synagogue floors from the early Christian centuries show (documented
by Rachel Schmid), the Zodiac became an integral part of the really existing Jewish
worldview.

As
Christianity brought the Biblical worldview to the Pagans, it busied itself
with eradicating star worship, partly simply eliminating it and consigning it
to oblivion, partly adopting it in disguise. Thus, the eulogy to Mary as “Queen
of Heaven” is directly taken from the Pagan lore about Venus. Church buildings
were oriented to the rising sun. The Pentecost as the feast of the Holy Spirit
and of communication across language barriers was put in Gemini, All Saints’
Day as feast of the dead in Scorpio, etc. Stellar divination even gained an
explicit place in the Jesus narrative with the visit of the Magi. Jesus was
often likened to the sun with its well-attested myths of death and
resurrection. As Konstatinos Gravanis showed, theologians also likened Jesus to
a conjunction of sun and moon: the sun being his divine nature, radiant and
unchanging, and the moon his human nature, imperfect and transient.

Astrology
was very influential in the Middle East and in the Roman Empire, so the Church
ended up incorporating some of it. The Church Fathers condemned its supposed
determinism, but later doctores such as Thomas Aquinas created a space for it
within the Christian worldview. Christian astrologers merely had to explicitate
that the heavenly bodies were not gods (in fact, they were deemed to be set and
kept in motion by angels), and on that condition their own form of horoscopy
could flourish.

An instance
of very elementary astrology in Christian art was presented by my Serbian
friend Dragana Ilič. On a Jesus painting in a Serbian monastery, we find a
depiction of two seeming space ships, with one cosmonaut in each, in the
heavenly background to scenes from Jesus’ life. Since Erich von Däniken, many
New-Agers see this as proof that aliens have come, and that cosmonauts from up
there even triggered the genesis of religion down here. Alas, she showed that
these were ultimately just fanciful images of sun and moon.

Islam

The Quran
simply and strictly prohibits star worship. Again, this went hand in hand with
a high tide of astrology, but on the condition that astrologers emphasized how
the planets were not gods but mere cogwheels in a machinery set in motion by
the Creator. Pre-Islamic religion was actually also largely star worship (next
to ancestor worship and the worship of special stones like the Black Stone in
Mecca’s Ka’ba). Thus, the three Meccan goddesses of Satanic Verses fame, al-Lat, al-Uzza and al-Manat, are roughly the
Sun, Venus and the Moon. One of the most original papers dealt with one
pre-Islamic Arabian form of practical star lore.

We learned
from Arab researcher Mai Lootah that in pre-Islamic Arabia, the
quasi-Babylonian lore about the heliacal rising (i.e. as the last to visibly
rise before daybreak) of a number of stars and planets, or about their
opposition (rising when the sun sets) had been encapsulated in a series of verses
or rhymed prose texts, generally with a prediction attached. This art was
called anwā’. Most commonly they
generally predicted the weather, like astrological versions of our weather
proverbs: “Red sky at night,/ shepherd’s delight;/ red sky in the morning,/
shepherd take warning.” You might compare them also to the little stories that
go with a specific throw of the oracle stones in different oracle systems from
China to Congo, where each outcome contains a prediction applicable to the
questioners’ situation.

The art
seems to have some status, for city dwellers from Saudi Arabia have mastered
it, the way Westerners nowadays complete courses in fengshui or indeed in astrology. Traditionally, however, it was
passed on from father to sun in Beduin communities, and she could interview a
number of those hereditary specialists in Kuwait. The verses were preserved all
across the Islamic period by these Beduin soothsayers (baru’), who of course had to assure their environments that the
stars were not gods and that this lore implied nothing detrimental to
monotheism. However, since urbanization struck in Arabia in the 1960s, the
specialists are losing touch with nature and with direct observation of the
starry sky, so that this lore is now getting hazy. Modernization is destroying
what fourteen centuries of prohibitive monotheism could not.

Rebels against the world order

An often
neglected ideological impact upon evolving astrology is Mazdeism or
Zoroastrianism, the Persian religion. The Persians ruled Babylon in the 6th-4th
century BCE, where they adopted but also influenced local astrology. They were
a major presence in Greek life, and in subsequent centuries, after Alexander,
remained a major influence upon Hellenism. As is fairly well-known, they
worshipped Ahura Mazda (“Lord Wisdom”), a form of address of the Vedic god
Varuna, personification of the world order incarnated in the orderly
configuration of the night sky.

The great
rebel against Ahura Mazda was Angra Mainyu (“Furious Spirit”), signifying
disorder. From philological studies, we
know that he can be equated with the Vedic god Indra, the thunder-god (Thor, Jupiter,
Zeus, Marduk), whom the Iranians had demonized. In Vedic polytheism there are,
apart from the ultimate poles of Heaven and Earth, three classes of gods: 12
heavenly ones, 11 atmospheric ones, and 8 earthly ones. The first category
signifies celestial order, not coincidentally the number of the Zodiac signs,
or that which in Iranian dualism comes to be symbolized by Ahura Mazda. The
third one signifies the wordly riches undergoing the influences from above. The
second category is the one that interests us here: it signifies dynamism and
disorder, symbolized by the unwieldy number 11 and by the unpredictable wind.
It is here that storm-god Indra belongs.

Above the
earth with its intractable and hidden pathways, but below the seemingly orderly
and unchanging array of the fixed stars, therefore also reckoned as part of the
“atmosphere”, of the in-between sphere, there are also the disorderly phenomena
of heaven. These include comets, eclipses, the occasional nova, and come to
think of it, in a sense also the planets. These are more predictable than the
earthly events, also more than the weather or the comets, but less than the
fixed stars. It is, for instance, hardly necessary to calculate an ephemeris
for the stars, for their positions remain unchanging for a long time; by
contrast, it is necessary to map out the movements of the planets.

This way,
the planets partly partake of the orderly and unchanging divine world, but also
participate in the sphere of disorder. Speaker Paul Bembridge demonstrated a remarkable
confluence, around the time of Christ, of beliefs that a war was raging in
heaven between the stars and the planets: the “Gnostic crisis”. In that sense,
it could be said that the planets partially signify the adversary of the world
order. He probably went too far when he tied this in with the nickname of Venus, the brightest of the planets, as Lucifer. He tried to associate Venus,
and through her the planets in general, with the Devil (“the slanderer”), the
Satan (“the adversary”), the opponent of the divine order par excellence.
However, Lucifer means the “light-bringer”, apparently because as morning-star,
Venus announces the dawn; and not too much should be looked for behind this.

On the
other hand, while exaggerated, it does point to a reality. As is known, in
Bible-based theology, Satan is meant to try and test us, to “lead us into
temptation”. And that exactly is what the planets are: signifiers of the unruly
passions, the wild sea we have to learn to navigate, and from which we
ultimately have to emancipate ourselves.

Hindu astrology

The whole
conference was exceptional, but I especially enjoyed the papers on Hindu
astrology by Kenneth Miller and Freedom Cole. One of the Sanskrit terms for
“astrologer”, at least since its mention in a 4th-century dictionary, is Daiva-jña, “knower of the gods”, or in
practice, “knower of fate”. Another is Daiva-lekhaka,
“gods-writer”, “fate-writer”, i.e. horoscope-maker. Obviously, the stars here
were seen as gods regulating man’s destiny.

The Bhagavad-Gita 5:12 says that men desiring
success in action worship Devas/gods, and that for them, success gets
accomplished through ritual action. It is in this spirit that astrology is still
practised in India today: the client will get advice on what ritual to practise,
when and how and for which god, to ward off the negative influences of the
stellar configurations indicated in his horoscope. This will remove the
obstacles to his well-being and the fulfilment of his desires.

By
contrast, Sadhana or what is nowadays called “the spiritual path” falls outside
the ambit of astrology. In Sadhana, the point is to decrease your desires, to
renounce, to abandon. A monk is usually expected to refrain from astrology. His
aim is not to navigate the circumstances of life, the risks and opportunities
signified by the stellar configurations, but to grow out of this world, to
become indifferent to fate.

In the
West, astrology appeals mostly to starry-eyed aficionaos of “spirituality”.
Though cultivating a soft and mushy worldview, they tend to be stern in their
disapproval when they hear that in the Orient (not just India, but also China
and other places, where the bourgeoisie takes astrological advice very
seriously) people are very “materialistic” in the questions they ask, as are
the astrologers in their matter-of-fact answers. But in fact, it is only
natural, ever since the beginning of sooth-saying, that oracle-readers,
palmists and star-gazers are down-to-earth in the advice they give. Everyone is
free to “indulge” in the spiritual path during his free time; but in the grim
business of making a living, choosing where and how to build a house, or
marrying off your daughter to a worthy candidate, clear and lucre-conscious
counsel is called for.

Hindu
civilization probably borrowed its present system of horoscopy from the Greeks,
who in turn had freshly adopted it from the Babylonians. It is, at any rate,
not mentioned in India before Alexander, in fact only six or so centuries
later. One of the speakers, like many Hindus, wasn’t so sure about this. Thus,
the very first book on horoscopy in India is admittedly called Yavana Jataka, “Ionian Birth Astrology”,
but that doesn’t strictly prove that non-Greek astrology wasn’t known. But this
sounds like special pleading: the common-sense conclusion from the available
data is that the existing tradition of Babylonian horoscopy was first adopted
and transformed by the Greeks after Alexander’s conquest, and in subsequent
centuries transmitted by the Indo-Greeks to the Indians.

However,
the borrowed nature of Indian nativity-reading doesn’t prove the absence of
astrology. All major civilizations cultivated some more or less systematized
stellar lore, along with other forms of divination. And indeed, Vedic
civilization knew at least two distinct forms of astrology. One was
omen-reading, described in the Mahabharata, comparable to what existed in
Mesopotamia in pre-horoscope days and amply attested there in clay tablets from
the 2nd millennium BCE. This was by its very nature haphazard, based on any
celestial revelation which the gods of their own volition chose to make
concerning their own mood: eclipse, comet, or sudden darkening of (what we now
know to be) double-stars of when its weaker partner came to occult the brighter
partner.

The other
was based on the 28 lunar houses, already mentioned in the Vedas, a system
cognate to the 28 Xiu in China or the
28 Manāzil in Arabia. Each house was
roughly the angular distance traversed by the moon in a day. It was succinctly
but systematically described in the Jyotishi Vedanga, a work which Cole
confirmed to be from the 14th century BCE, pace David Pingree’s estimate of ca.
the 5th century BCE. This book dates itself in two independent passages through
the precessional correlation of the constellations with both the Solstice axis
and the Equinox axis to ca. 1350 BCE, and nowhere to any other date. It is not
acceptable to overrule or ignore this direct testimony, as academics wedded to
an artificially low chronology for Indian civilization usually do.

The
Jyotishi Vedanga gives instructions under which stellar configurations to
perform rituals. But why should this be important? At face value, this seems to
be only astronomical, only technical, but the fact that ritualists should
attach importance to stellar configurations indicates a sense of astrology, of
attaching a significance to celestial positions. Only, this significance is not
yet tied to individuals and their birth times, not yet nativity-astrological,
not yet horoscopic. It only decides on generally auspicious times for starting
an entreprise, for laying the first stone of a house, or for concluding a
wedding. It is what we would call “electional astrology”.

The most
common remnant of this form of astrology, persisting long after
Hellenistic-originated horoscopy came centre-stage, is the existence of
wedding-seasons. If in an Indian city you consider hiring a festival tent or a
brass-band for your company’s garden party, it is best to choose the off
season, for at certain times of the year, cities are just full of wedding
parties. All new couples want to tune in to a good stellar configuration to solemnize
their wedding. Only militant skeptics organize weddings under a configuration
that is deemed inauspicious.

Conclusion

This
conference was great. Coincidentally or not, it took place when Jupiter conjoined
Rahu (who, as Matthew Kosuta detailed, is the special object of worship in
Thailand), and both were in opposition with the Moon conjoining Neptune. Rahu
is the cosmic monster that devours the sun or moon during eclipses; or more
rationally, the point where lunar and solar orbit intersect. Astrologers
believe that with Jupiter, Rahu indicates glorious new beginnings, or meetings
with great sequels. Moreover, on this occasion they oppose Neptune, the planet
of illusions and confusion. The growth and expansion they promise, sets itself
against flaky dead-ends and entanglements. Yet Neptune happens to be at his
strongest in Pisces, bringing out positive sides like a rich imagination and
inspired art.

I do not
know enough of astrology to discern what should be the downside, but I suppose
we’ll run into that at some point. That is what most of us, lesser mortals, do:
undergo our destiny, because we tend to be underlings. Then again, this is a great time for starting an
upward curve. Meanwhile, I am
satisfied with having had a good time.

Dear Dr.Elst, Most of this goes over my head. But, I have always been curious to know why, how and when did the mortals began to develop the idea that the tiny dots in the sky could influence their fate and fortunes on this earth?

About Me

Koenraad Elst (°Leuven 1959) distinguished himself early on as eager to learn and to dissent. After a few hippie years he studied at the KU Leuven, obtaining MA degrees in Sinology, Indology and Philosophy. After a research stay at Benares Hindu University he did original fieldwork for a doctorate on Hindu nationalism, which he obtained magna cum laude in 1998.
As an independent researcher he earned laurels and ostracism with his findings on hot items like Islam, multiculturalism and the secular state, the roots of Indo-European, the Ayodhya temple/mosque dispute and Mahatma Gandhi's legacy. He also published on the interface of religion and politics, correlative cosmologies, the dark side of Buddhism, the reinvention of Hinduism, technical points of Indian and Chinese philosophies, various language policy issues, Maoism, the renewed relevance of Confucius in conservatism, the increasing Asian stamp on integrating world civilization, direct democracy, the defence of threatened freedoms, and the Belgian question. Regarding religion, he combines human sympathy with substantive skepticism.